All legends have beginnings— some are worth remembering -- others are better left to darkness.

When college student, Marcus Brennan, discovers an ancient book revealing the origin of vampirism, all hell breaks loose not just in his life but for the world around him. He is holding the ultimate weapon two master vampires desire more than blood. It is the weapon that will give them the power to rule not only the Vampire Nation but all mankind.

It is up to Alexandra Glade, fierce and radiant vampire hunter, and her team, the Berith Lochem, to find and protect Marcus in order to prevent the unthinkable…

ExcerptDeep in the bowels of the Sihkov, the crew members had stored an
endless row of massive cargo crates. Runaway mice inhabited the
darkness. Piles of dust and more piles of dust atop every cargo box
infected the air, and fluorescent lighting around the entire room lit the
way in case any of the seamen did an inventory or checked for leaks in the
hull.
Vampires as well, fierce and bloodthirsty beasts, traveled in secret.
Vampires never made a sound. Humans rarely knew that they were prey
for the damned as well. Shadows, they were. Shadows, they’d been since
the beginning of time.
Underneath the breath and thoughts of mortality hid the secret nation
of vampires, a race of dark souls intent on abiding by a Code, a
contemporary set of rules of conduct not like the primitive ways when the
world was young and man was younger. Countless centuries ago,
vampires used to not only feed, but kill without mercy. They were
animalistic.
Not so anymore.
The Code spoke of Eat to Live, Not Live to Eat, Be Shadows of the Night, Be
One With the Darkness, And Never Let in the Light….
In essence, for centuries leading up to modern times, vampires hid in
secret, a quiet yet conceited ‘respect’ for their nourishment, the tender
flesh of mortals.
The Code never stood alone, though. With it sat two councils of the
world, hidden away from mortal eyes. One was the First Blood Council of
Russia, forged of freezing fires in the icy wasteland. The other was the
First Blood Council of South America, hidden in the darkness of the
Andean mountain ranges.
One Council enforced the Code and upheld the sanctity of the vampire
on the east side of the world. The other controlled the west side of the
globe. Both were not alike in ambition, demeanor or respect for their
fellow brethren, however…. Most notably, the Council of Russia’s respect
for the sacredness of the vampire stretched in many directions, some
questionable.
As it stood, the state of the Eastern Vampire Nation shook the pillars of
Hell and Heaven. From setting suns to rising moons, covens warred with
each other. Different breeds disagreed on many issues such as territory
and law.
All because of the Council of Russia.
Their ravaging experiments, their twisted nature of turning the
vampire into a project of discovery, creating new breeds unheard of by
many, thankfully unseen by innocent eyes, and unknown to only the
noblest of purebloods, infected their dark minds. Slowly, the Council fed
on their own greed, and the rape of their own nature. Creating a truly
vicious breed among many…the threll.
Strange that a threll could possibly be lurking in the shadows of the
cargo hold, waiting to tear flesh, drink blood. Destroy life. And the
crewmen wouldn’t even know. At least not until their necks were ripped
out.
When a victim drinks the blood of a living vampire, the dark gift takes
over: they become like them. Thrells, however, were different; they were
mortals forced to drink dead vampire blood.
The horror of that was the gift of the host didn’t translate to the
parasite. It was a sick infection. A curse. That vampiric beauty became a
twisted mutation, flesh wrinkling hideously and their minds degrading
into savagery. Very much like the ancient vampires of hidden times in the
past.
The forgotten.
The unacceptable.
Unfortunately, not only was the threll an unacceptable breed, it was
also spreading like wildfire. It grew in numbers well past that of the
purebloods. Some feared. Others were mystified. Most never even knew.
Except one.
His name was Nikolas Stahl, Master Vampire of Russia, representative
of the nation within the continent who worked with the Council.
He absolutely loathed the infestation of thrells. More passion of hatred
fed his fire than that of human blood. He became a terrifying adversary so
much that he even opposed the Council on many occasions. Bitterness
raged. Thrells gathered. A war was going to come. And it was all from
Nikolas’ hands.
Even the head of the governing body himself, the Dark Calling,
couldn’t rein in Nikolas. The Minister of Shadows, master vampire
charged with the matters of rogues and reckless breeds, didn’t agree with
him—much. The Guardians with their mysterious ways, soldiers of the
Council fortress, couldn’t best him in battle when bitter arguments boiled
over. Even the Scarlet Sentinels, shadowy priests, attending to the dark
desires of that arduous bloodlust: none of them could stave off Nikolas
Stahl or his need for purity.
It was unfortunate for him, however, that in great numbers, the thrells
of the Vampire Nation hunted him down. Naturally, the Council did
nothing about it.
Nikolas fled Russia. But he had a mission, a very private, passionate,
powerful one. It was a mission that could give him the power not only to
end all thrells, but to overtake the Council that had opposed him so many
times. He would obtain the greatest of glory. He would become Master of
all.
The saber in the sky cut through the night as clean as a killing blade
would if it had a history of blood behind its hilt. The streak of lightning
reflected the thoughts of Nikolas and his secret mission. Stars, like drops
of bright blood shed from the blade’s glowing steel, glistened. Reflected in
the raging waters of the ocean, nothing held peace. The rise and fall of the
waves resembled undulating rolls of liquid fire hissing left and right. The
clouds toiled around the moon and stars like a cloak suffocating the light
and harkening in darkness. The rain wailed, burst eardrums and hearts
with the constant drone of percussion, blast after blast, atop the Sihkov. It
headed toward the Port of New York to deliver goods.
Men toiled as the ocean toyed with the ship, foamy waters crashing
against its starboard side and billowing over its bow. The crew onboard
didn’t expect the storm that soon; nevertheless, they readied themselves.
They had turned on the lights. The skipper manned the radar and satellite,
staying the course, unwavered by the gale. In the haze of howling winds,
ripping rain and tearing waves, the men hollered commands to each
other. All hands were on alert, never faltering. Good men never falter, not
when it involved goods, or the invaluable materials the ship carried.
Strange the lack of care some men tended to take with goods. A
scrawled signature to the ship’s manifest, a checkmark as the cargo was
lifted aboard and stowed. But they never really…checked. Who knew what
they carried around? History had shown transits, in cargo or on planes,
had carried numerous unknowns all the time. Not unheard of. And most
of the time authorities neglected or at least remedied unknowns such as
indigenous insects or plant life or curable diseases after passing through
customs.
One of the containers in the hold blasted open in a splash of sawdust,
wood splinters twirling in the musty air.
Naked, heaving, powerful—a slender man stood in the middle of the
debris, eyes like cigarette lighter flames and eyebrows pointing down to
the bridge of his nose. His silvery hair reached down to his lower back
and reflected the fluorescent lights, making the room brighter.
He checked the other boxes around him to find that none of them had
been tampered with or damaged. They carried the rest of his belongings—
clothes, treasures, china, blankets, pillows and heirlooms. He hadn’t
planned on a vacation; not that this was a holiday. He was on his way to
his new home, the United States.
For a long time, he hungered for a godly treasure, a sacred book. If not
for his bloodlust, he’d spend the whole trip in the box, conserving his
strength, letting time melt away so that he could continue his personal
mission in America.
Some seamen shouted through the ceiling. Waves smashed into the
hull as it creaked and groaned again. Nikolas swung each way, wary of
every noise and whisper. He felt more vulnerable in the middle of the
room…and he couldn’t shake an uneasy feeling…that someone or
something watched him.
He crouched in his broken box, staring up, forehead
creasing…waiting.
Something else hid in the shadows of the room. He felt it.
Squealing mice scurried past. He shifted, following their pattern. Not
the mice, he thought.
He felt a heat of danger rise inside his body, and his eyes burned with
fury. Someone hunted him. He knew it, above all things. The prize, soon
to be his, would be in danger of landing into someone else’s hands.
Unacceptable. He would let the sun ravage him before anyone else
acquired the one thing, the one truth.
“Nikolas!”
A clawed blur shot out from the darkness, reaching for Nikolas’ throat.
In a breath, he blinked and crossed his arms, meeting the mysterious
thrust with iron-like hands clutching cold, wrinkled, leathered skin and
tossing the figure away. The blur growled as it scrambled up. Nikolas’
eyes widened to better catch sight of the attacker. He couldn’t think fast
enough as it crawled toward him.
The beast smashed the crate with steak knife-sized talons. Nikolas
leaped backward, growling at it. He landed atop a box on his knee, hair
falling into his eyes. Bladed teeth bared, he waited for the monster to
come after him.
It hopped into the air, claws out in a maddened frenzy.
Nikolas snatched both arms and stood his ground. The force of the
impact caused the crate to almost tip over as vampire and beast locked
together, vying for an advantage. An anger of survival hanging on him,
Nikolas stared into the eyes of a wretched demon.
The beast smiled hideously. Its putrid, discolored face and bright feral
eyes begged to dive into his flesh and kill. Its horrific body, covered in
loose, tangled brown hair, and long claws ached to pierce his eyes and
taste his blood and brain—the creature drooled hot saliva, growling,
roaring, pressing. Hating.
Nikolas howled as he strained to lift the monster over his head,
breaking the battle of strength. He tossed it clear across the room,
smashing the fluorescent lighting on the far side. The breakage rendered
the room a mess of sporadic light and dark.
Nikolas lost sight of the beast.
He crouched on the box—heaving, teeth bared—muscles tightened
into something raw and ripped. His unbreakable focus glared at the spot
where he threw it off.
Holding his breath…death waited….
As the light flickered, he saw nothing. The room went dark….
Light flashed back on, and the beast stood in front of him, frothing at
the mouth.
Nikolas gasped, cutting both arms in a pounding double backhand,
knocking the beast into a delirium for a few seconds. He roared, the saliva
starting to drip down his fangs as the monster reeled.
The creature snapped, widening its eyes.
It drove one talon into his shoulder blade. Blood spattered, flesh tore.
He gritted his teeth, grunting. Pain didn’t seethe in him—rather the
thought of being pinned by such a wretched abomination sent his fury
into the heavens.
Staring into his eyes, the fluorescent light like lightning, it spoke…. “It
will be mine…Nikolas.”
Its voice, a wild whisper, bled into his ears and brought up even more
fury. The monster grinned again, sensing a true victory. No creature
would stop Nikolas from his quest. Come all things evil, he would find his
prize and claim it for himself. No beast would have his glory.
Nikolas screamed as a wave crashed into the side of the hull, tearing
out the monster’s talon and tossing the threll into one of the containers,
shattering it. The creature howled as it bled from the point where the talon
had snapped off.
Without taking a breath, he broke off two strips of wood and leapt
toward the beast, driving the two pieces into the beast’s arms, pinning it
to a box. It howled again, blood rupturing from both arms.
Nikolas wrapped a hand around its throat, subduing it. Death would
indeed come…but not for Nikolas. Not before he received answers.
“Ferus, I presume?” he said.
The monster spat, gnashing out at him, unable to sink its teeth into his
smooth, bare skin. Nikolas stayed his fury for just a moment.
He had felt sure no one followed him; it apparently didn’t pay to trust
his own senses. He feared this wasn’t any longer his own personal quest
for glory but had become a chase with him as the prey.
“The thrells of Mother Russia are after me, are they not?” he asked.
Ferus stared before he began to laugh while Nikolas stewed over his
unanswered question. Nikolas took deep breaths, still feeling the sting of
Ferus’ broken talon in his shoulder.
“Strange that you laugh, Ferus, knowing I have you pinned here.”
Ferus snarled. “You’re oblivious, Nikolas…you have no idea what you
face.”
Nikolas twisted the wood in Ferus’s wounds. The threll howled in
pain.
“I do, indeed. I face a mindless monster with too much pride to talk
and would rather die next to a box.”
“You will never find it, and the thrells of the world will overcome the
Vampire Nation when we are the ones to claim it. We are tired of your
petty oppression!”
“You are all abominations. Mere abominations.”
“My brethren, including Breed, will come after you…” Ferus said,
cackling.
Nikolas glared. “Breed? How would that perversion of nature know
where I am?”
Ferus met his gaze with an icy glare.
“We know everything,” the threll said. “Sometimes…just sometimes, it
is a benefit to lurk in the shadows as we do.”
“And why is that?”
Ferus laughed. “We hear secrets better.”
Nikolas growled, feeling his face burn with heat. His voice grew a little
darker as he breathed. Ferus ridiculed him with those cold, wild eyes,
cracked lips, long nose, wrinkled skin and jagged teeth. To Nikolas, Ferus’
life was no more than an embarrassment to the proud Vampire Nation.
He let go of the wood, flexing his fingers to point at Ferus’ chest.
“Doesn’t matter, Ferus. I will find it. I will find the one who knows of
it.” Nikolas drove his fingers deep into Ferus’ chest cavity, exploding the
threll’s ribcage. “And when Breed finds me, he will meet the same end as
yours.”
Ferus gasped for breath, shaking madly at the pain. Nikolas had
pierced Ferus’ heart with his nails and had felt the quickening of blood
blast throughout its organs. The threll’s body went limp. Its heart ceased,
the blood slowing down but not stopping as it poured out of its wounds.
Between every flash of light, Nikolas growled, driving his fingers deeper
inside. As if Ferus’ quick death didn’t satisfy him. His simple act of
invasion, the need to kill, to take and to dominate, that mattered more
than the death. Nikolas smiled with glee at exploring Ferus’ insides.
He’d had enough, ripping his hand out.
Leaving Ferus there, Nikolas stood with the talon still stuck in his
shoulder. Blood stained his naked body. He couldn’t help but wonder
how many more of the thrells would come after him. With his opposite
hand, he grasped the talon and pulled it, pieces of flesh coming out, blood
drooling down the side of his chest. Nikolas clenched his teeth, unable to
make a fist, his arm tight with the rush of anguish.
No worries. After all, he was a vampire. A master vampire.
Nikolas walked toward the stairs where he still heard the seamen
above. The storm never left. He felt the waves crash into the hull. The
flashing light enticed him to walk up the stairs.
He was a vampire. Again, he felt the heat of hunger well inside him.
This time, it wasn’t the heat of mere anger and the drive to kill; this was
the bloodlust.
In time, his wound would heal with enough rest…and enough blood.

Bitten by Books ReviewThere is an odd partnership between humanity and the Vampire nations. Vampires are to live by the code, “Eat to Live, Not Live to Eat, Be Shadows of the Night, Be One with the Darkness and Never Let in the Light.” And when that code is broken, it is an elite group of humans, members of the Berith Lochem, who must step in to punish the code breaker and protect humanity. Berith Lochem is a secret nomadic society of professional hunters working for the Vatican to purge evil from the world. They are restricted from causing to harm to vampires who have not broken the code. It is an uneasy partnership, both sides straining to find the loopholes.

Nikolas Stahl, a Master Vampire and Russian Council member, has broken from the council in a disagreement over the vampire abomination called the Thrells — failed experiments of the vampire nation that are spreading quickly. He is on the search for a book that will enable him to find the Father of all vampires and claim the earth for the Vampire nations, and he intends to let nothing stand in his way. Hearing rumors of the book, a Berith Lochem team is sent out to stop him. Alexandra, team leader, struggles to understand the importance of the mysterious book and the ramifications if the Father of all vampires is found. As she tries to unravel the mystery, she must grapple with not only her own dark history, but the history of humanity in its very first beginnings.

The Cain Letters is an action-packed adventure from the first page to the last. The author creates a fascinating picture of a world steeped in secrecy and on the brink of destruction. Melding history and religion together, the story takes the reader back to the beginning of man where the seeds of both greatness and evil were first sown. There are fierce battles, shocking discoveries and rich, vivid characters. The lines are blurred between victim and savior, with an ultimately satisfying end.

Love Romances & More ReviewA legend steeped in mystery and darkness, one that should have been left alone to oblivion except one person opens the door to this legend and unleashes something far more sinister than vampires.

When college student Marcus Brennan finds an ancient text detailing the origins of vampirism, he never expects that the world will go mad in a matter of days. It isn’t the fact that not one but two master vampires want it, not just to rule the vampire nation but all of mankind, that scares him but the fact that if they do get their hands on it, life as Marcus knows it is certainly gone in a poof of smoke. It is up to Alexandra Glade and her team of elite vampire hunters, the Berith Lochem, to keep him safe & to help Marcus stop the coming war because if not there are far worse things out there, like the coming of Cain.

OH MY GOD! This is one heart pounding story that will alternately scare the willies out of you and the next leave you flipping the pages to see what will happen next. I was blown away by the way this author wrote and drew the reader into his web, page by page. With the right amount of creepiness and paranormal, THE CAIN LETTERS, delivers one of those wild rides that leaves you gasping. This is a “new to me” author and one that really knows how to keep the reader on teeter hooks through-out the storyline. Can Marcus stay alive to stop the vampires from getting their hands on the ancient text or will it all be lost when Cain roams free?

Marcus Brennan is a college student who finds this ancient book detailing the birth and secrets of vampirism. What he finally realizes is that: One-vampires are alive and two: they really, really want this book-enough to kill him for it. It is up to vampire hunter Alexandra Glade and her crack team to keep Marcus alive and help defeat the vampires because the outcome if they get their hands on it is worse than they can imagine. All I can say is these characters are so fascinating and life-like; it felt like they were right beside me telling me a ghost story in front of a fire on a dark night. This is an author who really knows how to get into his characters head and showcase their good and bad qualities in perfect symmetry. There were some wonderful secondary characters that intrigued me and the fast paced storyline kept me enthralled till the very end.

THE CAIN LETTERS is a wonderful story that will surely keep you on the edge of your seat till the very end. With the right amount of horror, dark fantasy and a new twist on the legend of vampires, Pierre Roustan delivers a story that will leave you breathless and clamoring for more. If you enjoy a darker story on vampires, then run, don’t walk, to grab THE CAIN LETTERS and settle in for pure entertainment. I am eager to see if this author writes a sequel to THE CAIN LETTERS in the future.

Night Owl Paranormal ReviewThe Vampire Code…Eat to live, Not Live to Eat, Be Shadows of the night, Be One with the Darkness and Never Let in the Light…

When I first started to read the “The Cain Letters” I wasn’t sure if I’d made the right choice to review it…it begins at a slow pace, but by page 10 the story had grabbed a hold of me and it didn’t let go.

Pierre Roustan’s Cain Letters is a cross between Twilight and The Mummy Returns.

Nikolas Stahl, Master Vampire of Russia, is traveling to the United States. He must stop the threll, mortals who had been forced to drink dead vampire blood. The results are cursed, twisted mutations, an insult to the true vampire.

Nikolas is a purist and hates the threll that are spreading through the world like wildfire.

His quest consumes him. His hatred of them feeds his fire more than human blood.

Mason Richter is one of the oldest vampires in the United States. He has his own plans and doesn’t welcome Nikolas into his domain.

Alexandra Glade is member of the Berith Lochem…a nomadic, secret society of professional hunters hired by the Vatican to rid the world of evil. Her desire for revenge at times blocks all logic. She and her team are given the assignment to find out why both Nikolas and Mason are seeking The Cain Letters.

Each of the main players has their own agendas and they are not afraid to do whatever it takes to achieve their ends. It makes for an exciting ride. Give this book a read, you won’t be disappointed, but maybe you should read it doing during the daylight hours.